


Three

by Trio Maxwell-Chang (thegreatwordologist)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Love Triangles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:23:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatwordologist/pseuds/Trio%20Maxwell-Chang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg had never planned to be the one juggling two lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three

Greg had never planned to be the one juggling two lovers. That was more his ex-wife’s thing, really. She’d always needed to be needed, and when he had stopped relying on her for his confidence, she’d turned to another man, a bloody physical education teacher, of all things. Deep in his heart, Greg had hoped that the man had no self-confidence at all, and had toyed with the idea of finding a way to introduce him to Sherlock, because Sherlock was the laser that destroyed... or that neatly sliced away all self-doubt until the diamond in the rough had become a diamond in a proper setting, the jagged edges of hesitation and uncertainty trimmed away so that the light could shine through unshadowed by fear or worry. That was what he’d done for Greg, certainly, and Greg had to wonder whether this teacher of hers could withstand that cutting intensity.

But those wonderings only came when he was alone, rare anymore. At work, he was subjected to the laser himself, along with the brittle edges of Sally, jagged and unhappy but not yet demolished and the blunt nature of Anderson, whose own wooden club tried to follow the laser’s path with little success. But in his off-hours, there were two who held his own attention, one too many and yet neither one quite fitting the hole deep within himself properly.

Molly was soft and shy, desperate for his protection and approval, and yet there was always something a little sad in the way she looked at him. She’d never said anything, and he never pushed, but he knew that she wanted someone else, someone a little taller; someone whose colours contrasted more sharply; someone whose mind cut all others to ribbons... or to gemstones. Greg had never quite understood why she sighed after him, but he took what Molly was willing to offer, never pressing for more. He didn’t mind that she wished for another beside her, because somehow, he could still tell that she was right there with him when they were together. The quivering of soft, smooth flesh, the shining light of almost-tears in her eyes, the way her mouth formed a nearly-perfect ‘o’ of pleading, they all told him better than promises ever could that he filled some part of her with what she needed. He was careful with Molly. Sherlock’s intensity had left her fragile in a way he regretted, but she didn’t need him to rescue her.

When he shared her bed, the touches were gentle and tender, softly-spoken words of reassurance and comfort drifting between them. She was something precious and delicate, a flower whose petals might shrivel and wither if handled too roughly. Under his care, under his admiration, she had grown stronger, brighter, somehow more beautiful than before, but it wasn’t enough. She was wonderful. She pulled out the protector within him, but he was not only a protector, and she could not consume him the way he sometimes needed.

That was where Mycroft came into the picture, with a laser just as intense and unforgiving as Sherlock’s, but with the understanding that there was more to life than the Work. Under Mycroft, Greg became sharper, stronger, better than he had ever been, able to withstand the pressures of a millenia. Under Mycroft, Greg gleamed. It was his own flesh that quivered, his own body that opened when it was with Mycroft. The murmured reassurances and comforts were for his benefit, not Molly’s. He was fulfilled, mind drifting down unfamiliar avenues that led him ever-closer to the Holmes’ method and the bright glimmer of approval from both brothers. God help him, Greg craved that glimmer.

Greg had never hidden who or what he was with either lover, had never hidden the existence of his love from either of them. They accepted that he was not yet ready to choose between them, but there would come a day when his hand would be forced. He knew it. They knew it. They all lingered on the edge of that cliff, hanging above the chasm of loss that would signal Greg’s final choice, because Mycroft and Molly were too vastly different to be acceptable to each other, even with him as buffer. But that heartache was yet to come, and when the news came in about Sherlock and St. Bart’s, Greg just closed his eyes and wished for them both, knowing the wish could never come true.


End file.
